Final Performance
by EternalMistress
Summary: The race is on for Edward to confess his love to the beautiful Bella, but time beats him to it. When tragedy strikes, will he be able to hold himself together for the circus, or will it be their final performance?
1. Act I

_**FINAL PERFORMANCE**_

**Pairings:** All canon

**Universe:** Alternate universe, All human

**Disclaimer:** All characters belong to the goddess we call Stepanie Meyer. All hail that woman and her precious mind.

**POV: **Edwards. The narrator is in italics.

**_Authors Note: howdy folks, and welcome to final performance. I must warn you, this story is much more angsty than the likes of Stiletto in Mouth Syndrome. It does have some very dark moments, and i can't garantee you a happy ending. But please do read it, and review, i would appreciate all feedback possible. This baby has taken me many years to perfect it, and i'm still working on it, converting it from the not so good story with new characters to a fantastic fanfic. Also the beginning chapter is very short, because it's an introduction to everything. As the acts progress, i can promise you they span pages upon pages long._**

_**Without further ado, Final P****erformance.**_

* * *

**ACT I: The Bitter Beginnings**

_His graceful body is thrown forward, and every muscle stretches and twists, until his feet plant themselves firmly back on the_

_His graceful body is thrown forward, and every muscle stretches and twists, until his feet plant themselves firmly back on the ground. He faces the crowd, arms opened, either side of him, set in a welcoming gesture._

_The spotlight shines down on him, and the rest of the tent is dark, where the others lurked, only shadows to those who noted them._

_His green eyes snap around, and he observes the audiences, enthralled faces. They are waiting, watching, wanting to see more. His painted lips part, as his face splits into a wide grin. With an intake of air, he gives the audience the farewell they are waiting for._

_"Thankyou for attending Circus de Cullen."_

_His brings his hands together, and the clap resonates throughout the candy striped tent. A split second later, two canons fire, showering the air with confetti. The crowd get to their feet, cheering another fanstastic show. The spotlight switches off as the main lights begin to dimly shimmer, guiding patrons out._

_Tonight's show has ended._

_And our story begins._

* * *

I stand, panting heavily.my muscles ache, and the mixture of sweat and makeup is slowly dripping down my face, making it itch. Using the back of my hand, I wipe the salty trails away, and sweep the bronze mop of hair out of my face.

"Good show bro." I raise my hand with out looking up, it could only be Emmett wanting a high five. And surely enough I feel his sturdy palm knock against mine. I smile as his fiancee joins him, kissing him soundly on the cheek.

"Chin up Edward, the night is young, there isnt a show tomorrow, so we can explore the town tomorrow. We can go find you a lady friend." My smile fades slowly as Emmett's words sink in. I didn't want a 'lady friend'. I had found the perfect woman, she was so beautiful and pure. She was the epitome of perfect, and she could never be mine. She saw right through me, never noticing I was there. I don't blame her, I was nothing but another face among a crowd who far outshone me.

I was part of a very tight knit group within the circus. We had be brought together by personal tragedy at a young age, and stitched our hearts in perfect synch as we mourn the lives we had once lived. We had been together for so long, bonds as strong as those of family had been formed- and they could never be broken. They were my brothers and sisters, flesh and blood

I never had much of a life to mourn. My parents died young, they had succumbed to a deadly influenza strain. Before they died, they entrusted me to my distant relatives, Esme and Carlisle Cullen, who owed the circus. They were like a mother and father to myself, and the four others in our little group. From an early age, I had travelled the world with them, watching others perform, desiring to be apart of it all. After much begging, at the tender age of ten, I had gotten my wish- they allowed me to play the opening show tunes. At the age of thirteen I taught myself to juggle, and basic acrobatics, and when Jasper joined our troupe he taught me everything he knew about being a clown. It wasn't long before I was beside him, assisting him with his act.

Jasper was the most recent aquision to our group, joining us four years ago. He had run away from his former life, escaping a life full of blood and hate. He had left everything behind, his money, his status, and the woman whom he once called his life. He said being a clown filled him with joy, knowing he was spreading joy and laughter. Inside though, I knew he was seeking redemption for those lives broken by blood wars. For every tear shed for a lost loved one, he hoped to make someone else laugh.

When he arrived, he had dragged along, an annoying little brat. Well she wasn't that bad, I loved her like a little sister- even if she was one year older than me. The years went by, and as they grew up, they filled the voids in each other's hearts, finding a love strong enough to outlast time. However, we didn't know much about Alice, her past remained a mystery to us. The only thing we knew, was Jasper had found her alone and foresaken by her so called loved ones. She did have an amazing talent though, she could predict the future with such accuracy, that no one dared to bet against her. She had a tiny frame, but made up for that with her fierce personality.

Emmett and his fiancee were the other two who completed odd little family. Emmett had been brought to us, battered and bloody, on the brink of death. Some say he was mauled by a bear, but the truth was he had tripped in masses of barbed wire. Of course he kept the bear story, it only made his reputation as a bear trainer more exciting. He was the older brother figure of our family, his humour lighting up our duller moments. When he had healed from his lacerations, Carlisle prepared to send him home. Turns out he didn't want to leave, he had found his purpose in life.

Rosalie Hale.

She was stunning , with men travelling far and wide to gaze upon her beauty. Had she chosen a more perfet life for herslef, she would have liked to start a more normal life, free from the stardom the circus brought upon. But she loved Emmett, and she loved the family we had scraped together, so she stayed, because she found that sense of belonging all humans search for. I think we all stayed for that.

Over the years our circus troupe was slowly dissapating, as the others grew older, and saught a normal life, wanting to face the challenges of the cruel world out there. We had lost ten acts over the years, and only gained seven. As civilisation progessed, we were getting left behind, with some claiming we would one day be naught but the shadow of a memory on those who came to see us. We were known across the globe, but the fact of the matter was, we were a dying breed. But we would never rest, and we would fight, with entertainment, rather that guns, to secure our existance.


	2. ACT II

ACT II

_He watches her, entraced with her every step. He's marvelling at her beauty and grace, but he isn't the only one. His heart stops when she wobbles on the tightrope; and the audience gasp. But they are a sick and twisted bunch- as much as they would like to see her succeed, a larger part of them wants to see her plunge to her untimely death._

_But the stumble is just an act, one to thrill the audience, and they lap it up greedily. She reaches the end, and curtseys with a flourish. A spilt second later she is whisked away by a dark, handsome man._

_The audience marvel at the romance portrayed by this intimate act._

_And even though it is just an act, his heart breaks._

Everyone else had settled in for the night. The campgrounds were silent and empty, save for the few who couldn't sleep. I lay in my bed, staring at the wooden ceiling, with her on my mind.

Isabella Swan.

She was the epitome of perfection. But she was an acrobat, which meant she was off limits to me.

The acrobats were the elite, the upper-class performers. They were made for the men who exuded an air of masculinity and strength- not clowns like me. I was no one to her, just another face amongst the chaos of our hectic lives.

But the knowledge that she could never be mine would not deter my stubborn heart. So I continued to pine for her, day after day. And day after day, my heart would ache for this one sided love.

I don't know why I wanted her, but it didn't matter. I was drawn to her regardless. She was beautiful with her mahogany locks cascading down her back, which contrasted nicely against her pale skin. She was petite, but shapely with curves in all the right places. But that wasn't it.

It was her eyes. They were big pools of the warmest brown. I would often find myself drowning in their depths, as I searched for the meaning of my life. But I already knew the answer to that one. She was, of course. I would orient my days around her, volunteering to play the piano as she praticed, to waking up with the sun, like she did.

My fist slammed into the mattress, just grazing my thigh, as I pulled myself out of my revirie. I wanted to be able to touch her, to hold her tight. I wanted her to be mine. I sat up, knowing sleep would evade me once more. I groped around in the darkness, searching for a pair of pants, slipping them around my waist before stepping out into the cool night breeze.

My eyes flitted across the grounds, not wanting to be seen by those still awake. My eyes flickered over to the Quilutes wagons, it figures they would be the only ones awake. I scowled quietly. I wasn't overly fond of them.

So I headed in the opposite direction.

I stopped in a small patch of freesias, pickingup a small bunch. I would place them by her bedside, just before she awoke. I was acting no better than a stalker, but I didn't have the guts to leave a note either. It was then I saw her.

She sat among the lush green grass, humming a sweet melody. It entranced me and I listened to the honey dripping from each note. Her head was tilted towards the glittering heavens, gazing beyond the starlit skies. Her pale skin radiated under the moon's light. She was, as always beautiful, stealing my every breath away as I watched her. I watched as her shoulders rose and fell with every steady breath, and as her pale fingers knotted themselves with the grass.

I gathered the little courage I had, and took a step towards her. My hands clutched the bunch of freesias tightely, bruising the fragile stems slightly.

The gentle night breeze washed over me, and I watched as it swept up her hair, swishing it with perfect harmony to the long grasses around her.

I took another step, only to stop when his loud obnoxous voice broke through the silent atmosphere. I ducked behind the nearest tree, annoyed he had stolen the perfect opportunity. I couldn't watch, I didn't want to see whether she would accept him or not. I'm not sure my heart could stand seeing her happy with someone else But curiosity won out and I allowed myself to peek at the scene playing out before me.

He was striding up to her, every step displaying an air of confidence my steps could never hold. Behind his back, he held a bunch of red roses, each petal stiff with absolute perfection. He reached her, his mouth uttering words too soft to hear. She flashed him a brilliant smile, patting the grass beside her, and he flopped down, flourishing the bouquet at her. He cheeks flushed crimson, an action which made my blood boil with jealousy. How I longed to be the one to make her cheeks that delightful colour. I watched him trace his fingers around her cheeks, along her jaw line. But it wasn't until she giggled, that I felt the need to run; the jealousy was slowly turning into a bloodlust. So that's just what I did. Dropping my insignificant gesture of love, I ran back to the field the wagons were parked, and didn't stop until I was under the covers, sobbing myself to sleep.


End file.
